Donny Rosier

[donnyrosier]

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{ A B O U T . Y O U }

Name: kiara
Gender:
Age: nineteen
E-mail: ... you has it. (:
Twitter: still not hip enough to twitter, darlings.
Years of RPG Experience: going on six.
Other: --

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{ Q U I C K . Q U I Z }

How did you find us? --
What about ISS inspired you to join? --
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{ A B O U T . T H E . C H A R A C T E R }

**As told by Dyon and Raiden Rosier.

**Raiden as played by Skarletta.

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Name: “Donny would kill me if I told you his real name. Shit you not, I wouldn’t put it past the little bastard to gut me out right in front of you if I even hinted as to what it could possibly be. Which is almost ironic, given what his name actually is. I s’pose the most I can give you as far as a clue is that our mother was an odd one and had an affection for Greek Mythology. Take from that what you will.”
Age: "He’s four years younger than me, and about eighteen months older than Raiden. Makes him about eighteen years old, I think. I always forget his birthday.”
Gender: “He’s the third of four brothers, though I s’pose he’s pretty enough to be a sister. Maybe if he wore a little lipstick of something, tighter pants—could probably pass as a girl. Decidedly not, though, decidedly not.”
Year: “It’s his last year, thank god. I was growing bored out here in the big, bad ‘real world’ all on my own.”
Face Claim: Heath Ledger

Canon or Original? Canon

Facial Properties:
“Last summer, I accidentally walked in on Donny in the loo. And, really, I wish he had been doing something decent, like taking a shit. No, no. There’s Donny-boy, leaning over the sink, smearing some green shit all over his face. ‘Cleans my pores,’ he says. ‘Keeps me from breaking out,’ he says. I tell him he’s a fairy, and he promptly shoves me out of the loo, telling me exactly how I can fuck myself later. I guess it works for him, though, ‘cause I’ve never seen so much as a single blemish on that boy’s face. f**k*r got all the good-looking genes in the family, which is such shit I can’t stand it. I’m the oldest. I think that means I should be the best looking one of the bunch. No, no, that’s mother’s Donny. Soddin’ favorite.”

"At least you didn't walk in on him while he was dyeing his hair. He wanted to try blonde for a while, and holy shit man, he was running around with that plastic cap on his head for a good five minutes before he realized I was there. Good times, good times."

Dyon winces and shakes his head.

”Wasn’t a good look for Donny.”

“Donny’s nose is a bit of the bigger size, ‘cause I broke it the one time we were wrestling. ‘Course our mum reset it with magic, but it never really shrunk back down to size. I think he was seven when it happened; I was eleven, yeah. Wasn’t necessarily a fair fight, no, but I won and that’s what matters. Poor Don’s nose never looked the same, though.”

“Ugh. I swear if I hear Mum moan about how ‘gloriously brown’ and ‘beautifully haunted’ Donny’s eyes are, I’m going to vomit in her Hermes purse.”

“Donny smiles all the fucking time. Mostly because he’s blowing shit up half the time, and the other half he’s spending trying to charm the panties off the world’s ugliest women. You’d think with a face like Donny’s – all classically beautiful and shit – that he’d have finer taste in women. Though, I wouldn’t put it past him to fuck uglier women to make himself feel prettier… Donny’s always been a little fucked up.”

Physique:
“I could take him in a fight, and I do. I take him, and I kick the shit out of him, and that’s the end of that. Still, sparring with me has helped him with other people; don’t underestimate Donny just ‘cause I can beat the living shit out of him if I wanted. Donny’s strong. Agile. Fast as all hell. I can beat him in a fight merely due to my own size. Donny could beat me in a race in a heartbeat. He just doesn’t because – and I know I’m repeating myself, but it’s true – I’d kick the shit out of him. He’s not as tall as me – eh, I’d venture to wager somewhere between five-nine and six-two. Just on the rough estimate that he was taller than Ran – er, he’s shorter than me.”

“How does Donny dress—? Like a fucking fairy.”

Wand Type: 13”, Cherry Wood, Hippogriff Tail Feather
Wand Expertise: “Ollivander told Donny that his wand would be perfect for charms, but Donny is Donny is Donny; he uses his wand more for curses and jinxes than charms. Though I’m sure that old twit knew at least a bit of what he was talking about; I bet his wand is good for charms, too.”
Patronus: “A hippogriff. I have no doubt; vain as all hell with a fiery temper and a fragile ego to boot.”
Boggart: “Raiden and I. Dead.”

Personality:
“If I had to describe Donny in one word, that’d be really fucking simple and really fucking complicated at the same time. Donny’s crazy. That’s the easiest and hardest way I can describe him. He can’t sit still; Mum used to swat him every time he fidgeted at the dinner table, but he still managed to keep his restlessness. He’s always moving. Bouncing his leg, snapping his fingers – bloody fucking annoying, it is. This – this need for motion makes things awkward when it comes to how he carries himself in public. I remember it as if it was yesterday; we were out at the grocery store, and Donny was seven, I think. There was a massive… pyramid thing of cereal, right? And Randall and I – well, we were hanging around our mum, Raiden was tugging on her pant-leg trying to warn her, but it was too late. He gave a little scream before it toppled right on top of him. Stupid little Donny, pulling the cereal from the bottom instead of the top. That was… the start of it, I think. After we had pulled all the other boxes off of him, we found him laughing his ass off. Mum was pissed, ‘course she was. Beat him within an inch of his life, she did, right in front of everyone. Still, Donny can’t go anywhere without leaving destruction in his wake, even now. Always the first to start an unnecessary fight. If Donny’s involved? You can bet he threw the first punch. Words never did much to keep him from doing what he wants. Throw punches first, ask questions later. Doesn’t mean he’s incapable of using words; just means that when he does, he doesn’t spare much thought in being… anything but – ah, well. He goes for the jugular. Always.”

“Donny – ahh, he’s… excitable. Definitely has a temper on him, and it doesn’t take much to set it off. Look at him the wrong way, say his name a little awkwardly, fuck – you could just be standing there, and Donny’ll find a reason to hate you. And not just hate you – he’ll find a way to fuck you up. Whether that means he’ll fuck your girlfriend, fuck your mother – he’ll do his best to make sure you’re miserable.”

“… oh, lord, yes. Donny is as arrogant as God. See, he was always Mum’s favorite, the fuck. There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t tell him how gorgeous he was. He grew up knowing he was good-looking, and now he makes a point to make sure everyone else knows it, too. He’s vain as shit; can’t pass anything remotely reflective without fussing with his appearance. You think he’s looking you in the eye because he respects you? Fuck no. He’s making sure his scarf is perfectly twisted around his neck or some shit.”

“Donny doesn’t have street smarts. Not like me, and definitely not like Raiden. It was like the smart gene skipped right over Donny. He’s stupidly naïve. He – ah, he’s the kind of person to take someone at their word. He’ll think he’s getting a good deal when he’s getting fucked over royally.”

Raiden rolls his eyes.

"He's lucky he's got us, you know? The little shit wouldn't know his enemies even if they were all AK on his ass. Now that you're gone, Dyon, it's gotten ten times worse. The little idiot has been left without two galleons to rub together some days when he fails epically at a round of cards. If it weren't for me, he'd probably be screwed by now. Probably literally too."

Dyon nods, adding on with a grin, “ God, I remember it perfectly– his second year, my sixth – he came up to me. Bought what he thought was weed off of some kid in the dorm. Fucking oregano and rosemary – kid sold him spices out of the kitchen for three galleons. I don’t know what Donny did with the kid afterward, but even that didn’t keep him from being wary of people. Still naïve, trusting – stupid. The kid’s fucking stupid.”

“Stupid as he is, he’s severely loyal to those who matter to him. He can count them on one hand, three fingers – Mum, Raiden, and me.”

“… a weakness? Women. Donny has a terrible weakness for women. I’m not serious when I call the kid a fairy; he is… disgusting with them. Romantic – pulling out chairs, buying them roses – not something he learned from me. Definitely not.”

"I don't get where it comes from, 'cause Father was never like that with Mother. She would've never tolerated that shit, but Donny? It's like he's a sucker for the sighs and the gushes."

Dyon snorts. ”Understatement.”

Likes:
+ Chaos. “Donny loves to mix shit up. Make things ‘more interesting,’ he’ll say stupidly before throwing some random into a wall with no real reason other than he wasn’t there before.”
+ Women. “It’s his Achilles’ heel. And he’ll hate me for that reference.”
+ Fighting. “I think he does it more often than he masturbates.”
+ Fashion. “He’s a bit of a poof like that.”
+ Himself. “More than anyone else. Donny always comes first. Always.”
+ His brothers. “I’d like to think he likes me more than Raiden, but that’s unimportant. He holds us in incredibly high esteem. That’s what matters most.”
+ Spicy food. “He carries a bottle of hot sauce around with him. I honestly wish I was kidding.”
+ Being outside. “He broke his arm three times when we were younger from following out of trees.”
+ Himself. “… but I’m pretty sure I mentioned this.”
+ Dancing. “… I don’t really need to comment. The whole ‘he’s a poof’ is sort of just… understood.”

Dislikes:
– Mudbloods. “We’re Rosiers. We have standards. We were raised a certain way, and Donny – despite his stupidity – respects where he came from.”
- School. “Donny doesn’t do well with books and brains and anything that’ll make his head hurt too much.”
– Most people. “Donny’s not a people person. He’s never been a big people person. His need to be the center of attention makes it hard for him to… relate to people. Besides his family, he doesn’t really go out of his way to be… friendly. Well, he will be friendly to those he’s told to be friendly to – family friends, girlfriends, that kind of thing. But a random stranger walking down the street? He’s more likely to punch them in the face than he is to shake their hand. Always been Donny’s way. And fuck it all to hell if it’s not the most entertaining thing in the world.”
– Muggles. “Donny doesn’t like anything remotely resembling muggles. Well, besides clothes. Dunno, the boy’s always been a bit screwy. But stupid things like cars or – tellies, whatever those are – those things frustrate him. Donny’s had a few… ah, incidents? Involving muggles, I mean. We don’t – aha – we don’t talk about it often.”
– Sweets. “Doesn’t touch ‘em. More for me.”
– Hook-ups. “Donny just – doesn’t do things that don’t have strings attached. Always has to have a girlfriend.”
– When people correct him. “He knows he’s not the brightest, but he absolutely can’t stand it when someone corrects him. Particularly if it’s in front of other people. Sort of sets him off a bit; I swear, Raiden and I only get away with it ‘cause we’re brothers. And that speaks for itself.”
– Water. “Donny has a fear of large bodies of water. It’s a long story that he would kill me for telling. I mean, I think he’d prefer for me to tell his real name than to tell about the time he almost drowned. Because he was drunk. And I had to fish him out, and then—” He grins, “… I suppose this would count as me telling the story, eh?”
– Reading. “I don’t think I’ve seen Donny read anything other than a menu. And even then, I’m convinced he’s just looking at the pictures.”
– Firewhiskey. “That’s a long story for another day. I think I embarrassed the boy enough, really.”

History:
“I remember the day Donny was born almost perfectly. Randall was three and I was four. Or maybe Randall was three and I was five already – we were little. And our dad had us out in the backyard on those miniature broomsticks. Didn’t lift us more than a foot off the ground, but we were small enough that it was awfully exciting. Wind in the hair – all that. And, all of a sudden, we’re being ushered into the floo, forced to sit in this tiny, white room, so that we could welcome our new little brother. We were there for like, twelve hours, and when we finally got to see our little brother, I hated him. He was this tiny pink screaming thing, but he had interrupted my time in the sky, and I resented him immensely. That lasted all of… two weeks. And then I warmed up to the kid. Randall was still – well, we were mostly closer because we were the same age. And when Raiden came about eighteen months later, it was the same song and a different dance. It wasn’t that we sort of meant to split up the way we did. It’s just that Randall and I were close in age and Raiden and Donny were close in age. We watched out for each other. I bullied the kids giving Randall a hard time, and Donny tried to do the same for Raiden – though, with a name like Adonis, Raiden was doing his fair share of coming to Donny’s aid.”

He pauses, grins, and moves on as if he didn’t realize what he said, though the guilt was written all over his face in unadulterated glee.

“One of the earliest memories I have of Donny was when I was seven and he was three – maybe four. Mum had sent me upstairs to get her wand off her bedside table. She left it up there in her rush to get to a crying Raiden, still a baby. And I walk into their grand bedroom, and there’s Donny, standing on their bed, staring into the mirror. Mum had this god-awful hat with feathers and jewels and – it was all pretentious and all that. And on top of his blonde hair, was this hat, right? And wrapped around his neck is her most expensive scarf. But the icing on the cake? He had smeared her bright red lipstick all over his face. No – maybe the best part was that Donny didn’t even seem embarrassed. He just asked me if he looked pretty.”

He laughs then, shaking his head. “I told him he looked gorgeous.”

Running a hand through his hair and over his face, he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, as if attempting to come up with another fond memory. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like there weren’t rough times,” he amends, his face rather still. [/i]“Donny had a terrible fear of thunderstorms when he was little. He spent many nights in my bed, always leaving before our parents could find us. Not that they would have minded; Donny has just always been an easily embarrassed person. He doesn’t like to show weakness. So, stupid things like all the spiders I killed or the nights he would cry over nightmares – those aren’t the kind of memories he’d want to talk about.” He grins, then, his face crinkling as it spreads, “But that’s never stopped me before.”

“Donny was a momma’s boy, to the core. Followed her around like a puppy, always asking if there was something he could do to help. It wasn’t as if my mother did much around the house – we were always wealthy enough to have cooks and maids and all that – we’re Rosiers, for fuck’s sake – but our mum didn’t go anywhere without Donny at her heels. He knows how to knit, now. Because eventually she got tired of him following her around and she sat him down and taught him how to knit. Well, Donny’s never finished anything; he still has a problem with sitting still. Donny’s room was covered in half-finished projects… hats, scarves… Then she tried teaching him how to draw. He broke the pencils. Piano was a bust; he cut some of the strings one night, just to get her to stop. Finally, she just sent him outside to play Quidditch with Randall and I. Well, as close to Quidditch as she could. And Mum would lock us out of the house, if only to give herself a bit of peace. And to keep Donny from knocking over a vase. Magic can only fix things so many times.”

“When I went to Hogwarts, I often got letters with updates from back home. Sometimes from Randall, sometimes from Mum or Dad – though, they sent me presents more than letters. It was Donny’s letters, though, that often broke my heart. Not because he missed me terribly – hardly so. He apparently took over my much-larger room mere moments after I had left. No, Donny’s letters broke my heart because they were always terribly misspelled.”

Then, reaching into his coat pocket, he pulls out a piece of old, yellowed parchment. He brushes his fingers around the edges for a moment, fondly smiling down at it. He opens it up and passes it over. Crudely written in crayon, there was a letter from seven-year-old Donny:

Dyonisoos – (He had three D’s written. One facing the wrong way, crossed out; one facing the right one, crossed out; before Donny must have finally settled on the D facing the wrong way.)

“See?” Dyon points out, poking the paper with a grin, “Can’t even spell my name right, the prat.”

Mum and Dad (with another backwards D) let me sleep in yur ruum last nite. Yur bed is nicer then myne. Im gunna kepe it. HA. HA. HA.

Have fun at skool.

Adonis (The S was backwards.)

He folds it back, tucking it back into his suit pocket, patting it fondly. “I keep it around for blackmail, naturally,” but there’s a lie in his eyes that makes his comment absolutely redundant.

“I was a fifth year when Donny finally came to Hogwarts. Randall and I had already formed somewhat of a reputation for ourselves in the house – of course, aiding Evan in becoming, well, someone in Slytherin, I s’pose. We looked after him. Made sure he was, y’know, taken care of. Made sure no one ever gave him too much shit. I let him steal some of my old essays. Randall and I would get our hands on the test answers. That kind of a thing. It was good for him – I think Donny really enjoyed his first year. Raiden came the next year – I was a sixth year and – and Randall was in his fifth and…”

He breaks off suddenly, going mysteriously quiet for a moment. It takes just that moment before he regains his composure.

“Both our dad and Randall died that year.”

And that was that.

“When that happened,” he continues seamlessly, “age differences be damned. We were brothers, and that was that.” He nods, as if that’s all he had to say about it. “’Course we all helped Mum out when we could. I got a job in the summer; a little rinky-dink shop in the corner of Knockturn Alley. Swept floors and handed over the paychecks. Donny took things roughly. He doesn’t like it when his family suffers, but there was nothing any of us could do. Our family was suffering because our family decided we should suffer,” he says vaguely, waving his hand about, “and Donny didn’t do well with that. That’s when he started picking more fights. He was a bit violent, even at just twelve.”

He shrugs, “I wish I could say that he’s gotten better at that, but I can’t. Donny is Donny and will always be Donny. And Donny is my brother and always will be. That’s what I know, and that’s what fucking matters.”

"I think that's the year when you guys stopped being the older brothers to actually BECOME the older brothers. I don't know, man, it's hard to explain, the fact that it was a group effort to plow ahead through all the shit that was being thrown our way. I may not have been there for their earlier memories, but I sure as hell am here now and the current memories are a damn lot better than anyone can have at the age of four." He shrugs. Dyon snorts, jabbing his shoulder with a thick finger. "It's just the way it is. It's Mum and us--and then there's the world."

Dyon grins, reaching over to ruffle Raiden’s hair. With a smirk, Raiden attempts to grab Dyon in a headlock. And Dyon, feeling generous, lets him.

Sample Post:
{Please refer to the old, archived posts of Jackie Fontaine, Johnny Myers, Jack Sparrow, et all.}

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{ C O N T R A C T }

I solemnly swear that I, kiara, have read the rules, understand clearly what my responsibilities are now that I am joining ISS, and will abide by these standards set by the staff.[/color][/blockquote][/color]

[Lily Evans]

accepted

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